The God Question
Practical Ministry: A Response to June 7th
This is part of my year-long series exploring human-centered alternatives to the spiritual promises in Oswald Chambers’ classic devotional My Utmost for His Highest. Today’s entry, “Don’t Slack Off”, promises that believers who “remain in Jesus” through concentrated spiritual focus achieve supernatural prayer power where “whatever you wish” will be granted, becoming “the will of God” and making choices that are actually “God’s foreordained decrees.”
Here’s a different approach:
When Pastor David’s church launched their new prayer ministry, he taught Chambers’ promise enthusiastically. Members were encouraged to spend daily time “remaining in Jesus” so their prayers would be automatically answered. The more spiritual you became, David explained, the more your will aligned with God’s, making your requests divinely guaranteed.
Maria, a devoted member, embraced this teaching completely. She spent an hour each morning in prayer and Bible study, focusing her spiritual energies on Christ’s atonement. When her husband lost his job, she confidently prayed for quick reemployment, believing her spiritual discipline had earned her answered prayers.
Months passed. Her husband remained unemployed. Their savings dwindled. Maria increased her prayer time, convinced she wasn’t “remaining in Jesus” properly. Pastor David suggested she had unconfessed sin blocking her prayers, or wasn’t trusting enough, or was asking for something outside God’s will.
The spiritual gaslighting devastated Maria more than the financial stress. She began to question her faith, her worthiness, her ability to hear from God. The promise that had seemed so encouraging became a source of shame and self-doubt.
Meanwhile, her neighbor Jennifer took a different approach to their family’s crisis. Instead of intensifying prayer, she intensified action. She helped Maria’s husband update his resume and practice interview skills. She connected him with her network of professional contacts. She researched local job training programs and unemployment benefits.
Jennifer’s “ministry” wasn’t hidden spiritual intercession but visible practical support. She didn’t claim divine power over circumstances—she simply used her human resources to help. Her prayers, when she offered them, were simple requests for wisdom and strength, not demands for specific outcomes.
When Maria’s husband finally found work, it came through Jennifer’s networking, not through Maria’s spiritual discipline. The job was different from what they’d hoped for—lower pay, longer commute—but it was real employment that addressed their actual needs.
Maria realized that her months of intensified prayer had actually distracted her from taking practical steps to help their situation. The fruit that mattered hadn’t come from spiritual concentration but from human connection and concrete action.
Reflection Question: When has focusing on practical action been more effective than intensifying prayer or spiritual discipline?
This story is part of my upcoming book “The Undevoted: Daily Departures from Divine Dependence,” which offers 365 human-centered alternatives to the spiritual certainties in Chambers’ devotional. Each day explores how reason, community, and human resilience can address life’s challenges without requiring divine intervention.
Why God Doesn’t Exist
Flaws in Religious Arguments
Tools for Change: A Response to June 6th
This is part of my year-long series exploring human-centered alternatives to the spiritual promises in Oswald Chambers’ classic devotional My Utmost for His Highest. Today’s entry, “Work Out What God Works In”, claims that after salvation, believers must align every aspect of life with divine will through the Holy Spirit’s supernatural power, making obedience to God “as natural as breathing” because God becomes the source of the believer’s will.
Here’s a different approach:
After years of struggling with alcohol addiction, Marcus finally achieved six months of sobriety. His AA sponsor, a devout Christian, told him this was God working through him—that he needed to “work out” what God had “worked in” and align every aspect of his life with divine will.
But Marcus found this framework unhelpful and even dangerous. It suggested his sobriety was divinely guaranteed rather than requiring daily, deliberate choices. It implied that his will was now automatically aligned with God’s, making continued vigilance unnecessary.
Instead, Marcus embraced a different understanding. His sobriety wasn’t the result of supernatural transformation but of evidence-based treatment, community support, and his own hard work developing new habits and coping mechanisms. His therapist Dr. Kim helped him recognize triggers and develop healthier responses. His AA group provided accountability and understanding from people who’d walked the same path.
The “working out” Marcus did wasn’t mystical—it was practical. He had to restructure his social life, avoiding bars and drinking buddies. He had to learn new ways to handle stress, anxiety, and boredom. He had to rebuild relationships damaged by years of addiction, making amends where possible and accepting that some bridges couldn’t be repaired.
Marcus discovered that his will wasn’t aligned with any divine purpose—it was still very much his own, capable of both good and destructive choices. Some days he desperately wanted to drink. The difference was that he’d developed tools to navigate those moments: calling his sponsor, attending a meeting, going for a run, reminding himself of what he’d lose if he drank.
A year into sobriety, Marcus didn’t credit divine intervention for his progress. He thanked his treatment team, his AA community, his family’s patience, and his own commitment to recovery. His will hadn’t been supernaturally transformed—he’d simply learned to make better choices through education, support, and practice.
The “dynamite” that had blown up his destructive patterns wasn’t spiritual obedience but professional addiction treatment combined with peer support and personal determination to build a healthier life.
Reflection Question: When have you made positive changes through practical tools and community support rather than spiritual transformation?
This story is part of my upcoming book “The Undevoted: Daily Departures from Divine Dependence,” which offers 365 human-centered alternatives to the spiritual certainties in Chambers’ devotional. Each day explores how reason, community, and human resilience can address life’s challenges without requiring divine intervention.
Why Atheism Is Rising Globally
Active Courage: A Response to June 5th
This is part of my year-long series exploring human-centered alternatives to the spiritual promises in Oswald Chambers’ classic devotional My Utmost for His Highest. Today’s entry, “God’s Promise”, claims that God’s personal guarantee to “never leave or forsake” believers eliminates fear and provides supernatural courage in the face of any dread or challenge, transforming weakness into strength as long as believers properly listen to God’s words.
Here’s a different approach:
When Keisha’s fifteen-year-old daughter Aisha started showing signs of severe depression—sleeping sixteen hours a day, refusing to eat, talking about wanting to disappear—Keisha felt a dread so deep it made her physically sick. Her pastor reminded her that God promised never to forsake her, that she should trust and not be afraid.
But Keisha’s dread wasn’t about divine abandonment—it was about losing her child. And platitudes about God’s promises felt useless when Aisha locked herself in the bathroom with a bottle of pills.
Instead of building on spiritual promises, Keisha built on practical knowledge. She called the crisis helpline and learned the warning signs to watch for. She researched therapists who specialized in adolescent depression and made appointments with three different ones so Aisha could choose. She removed potential means of self-harm from their home and arranged for someone to be with Aisha at all times.
The courage Keisha found didn’t come from believing God would protect them—it came from taking concrete action. She learned to ask Aisha direct questions about suicidal thoughts, even though the conversations terrified her. She attended family therapy sessions where she had to confront her own role in Aisha’s struggles. She joined a support group for parents of depressed teens.
When Aisha was hospitalized after a suicide attempt, Keisha didn’t sing hymns about God’s promises. She sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair for three days, advocating with doctors, coordinating with insurance, and learning about medication options. Her strength came not from divine assistance but from the fierce protective love that made her willing to do whatever it took to help her daughter survive.
Six months later, with proper medication and ongoing therapy, Aisha was laughing again. Keisha’s dread had lifted not because God had kept his promise, but because human expertise—psychiatrists, therapists, counselors—had provided effective treatment. The helpers who mattered most weren’t supernatural but trained professionals who understood mental illness.
Keisha’s courage hadn’t come from remembering God’s words but from refusing to let fear paralyze her into inaction when her daughter’s life was at stake.
Reflection Question: When have you found courage through taking practical action rather than relying on spiritual promises?
This story is part of my upcoming book “The Undevoted: Daily Departures from Divine Dependence,” which offers 365 human-centered alternatives to the spiritual certainties in Chambers’ devotional. Each day explores how reason, community, and human resilience can address life’s challenges without requiring divine intervention.
Why People Die for False Beliefs
Present and Reliable: A Response to June 4th
This is part of my year-long series exploring human-centered alternatives to the spiritual promises in Oswald Chambers’ classic devotional My Utmost for His Highest. Today’s entry, “The Never-Failing God”, promises that God personally guarantees never to leave or forsake believers, providing constant divine presence and strength even in mundane circumstances, giving them “amazing strength” and the ability to “sing in the ordinary days.”
Here’s a different approach:
When Luis was diagnosed with early-onset dementia at 58, his wife Carmen felt abandoned by everything she’d believed about divine protection. The man who’d been her constant companion for thirty years was slowly disappearing, and no amount of prayer seemed to slow the progression.
Her pastor reminded her that God promised never to leave or forsake her. But Carmen found that promise increasingly hollow as she watched Luis struggle to remember their children’s names, then her name, then how to use a fork.
What sustained Carmen wasn’t divine presence but human presence. Her sister Maria moved in to help with daily care. Their neighbor Mrs. Rodriguez brought dinner twice a week. The adult day program gave Carmen respite while providing Luis with structured activities that kept him engaged.
The strength Carmen discovered wasn’t supernatural—it was practical. She learned to break tasks into smaller steps, to redirect Luis’s confusion rather than correct it, to find moments of connection in his remaining abilities. When he could no longer speak, they listened to music together. When he couldn’t remember her face, she focused on making him comfortable.
Carmen found meaning not in believing God was working through their suffering but in the tangible ways their community showed up. The dementia support group where other caregivers shared strategies and understanding. The home health aide who treated Luis with dignity even when he was agitated. Their daughter who video-called every evening from across the country.
As Luis’s condition worsened, Carmen didn’t sing because of divine strength. She hummed because music still reached him when words couldn’t. She found peace not in promises of never being forsaken but in the reliable presence of people who chose to stay, who showed love through practical action rather than spiritual platitudes.
When Luis died, Carmen’s grief was profound. But it wasn’t the abandonment by God that she’d feared—it was the natural sorrow of losing someone deeply loved, held and witnessed by a community that had never promised divine intervention but had consistently offered human care.
Reflection Question: When have you found strength through reliable human support rather than promises of divine presence?
This story is part of my upcoming book “The Undevoted: Daily Departures from Divine Dependence,” which offers 365 human-centered alternatives to the spiritual certainties in Chambers’ devotional. Each day explores how reason, community, and human resilience can address life’s challenges without requiring divine intervention.
Earned Confidence: A Response to June 3rd
This is part of my year-long series exploring human-centered alternatives to the spiritual promises in Oswald Chambers’ classic devotional My Utmost for His Highest. Today’s entry, “The Secret Of The Lord”, claims that God reveals intimate secrets to believers and provides automatic spiritual guidance for all decisions, instructing mature Christians to obey mysterious “checks” without rational examination.
Here’s a different approach:
Julia had always made decisions by “gut feeling.” When something felt wrong, she avoided it. When something felt right, she pursued it. Her friends called it intuition; her pastor called it the Holy Spirit guiding her choices.
This approach worked fine until she became a financial advisor. Suddenly, her gut feelings were managing other people’s retirement savings, college funds, and emergency reserves. A nagging doubt began to grow: what if her “spiritual guidance” was just unconscious bias, wishful thinking, or incomplete information?
The turning point came when her instincts told her to recommend a tech startup investment to the elderly Martinez couple. It “felt right”—innovative company, charismatic CEO, promising projections. But her colleague David pushed back.
“Have you researched their fundamentals? Looked at their debt-to-equity ratio? Checked the CEO’s track record with previous companies?”
Julia bristled. “Sometimes you have to trust more than spreadsheets, David.”
But his questions bothered her. She spent the weekend digging deeper. The startup’s books showed concerning patterns. The CEO had led two previous companies into bankruptcy. Industry experts were predicting a market correction that would hit tech stocks hard.
Julia’s “spiritual check” had been wrong. Dangerously wrong.
She began developing a new decision-making process. Instead of relying on feelings, she created checklists for evaluating investments. She sought multiple expert opinions. She required herself to articulate logical reasons for every recommendation. When doubt arose, instead of automatically avoiding something, she investigated further.
Over time, Julia discovered that her most reliable guidance came not from mysterious inner promptings but from thorough research combined with honest consultation with knowledgeable colleagues. Her “secret joys” weren’t divine revelations but the satisfaction of making well-informed decisions that genuinely served her clients’ best interests.
The Martinez couple thanked her for the careful analysis that led them to choose conservative bonds over risky tech stocks. Their gratitude felt more meaningful than any mystical confirmation ever had.
Reflection Question: When have you found that careful research and expert consultation led to better decisions than following your initial instincts?
This story is part of my upcoming book “The Undevoted: Daily Departures from Divine Dependence,” which offers 365 human-centered alternatives to the spiritual certainties in Chambers’ devotional. Each day explores how reason, community, and human resilience can address life’s challenges without requiring divine intervention.